Life Through Lucylastica's Lense

How we survived the weekend.

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 16:42:00 +0000

Well here I am on Monday afternoon; six days in to the frugal February (#frugalfeb for all you Twitterers) austerity challenge and, despite Hubby's little 'wobble' whilst doing the shopping on Friday, I think we are actually still on track to come in below our £25 budget for week 1.

We even made it through the weekend with a only a measly £3.44 remaining and much to our surprise we still have that £3.44 in our pockets...PLUS we actually made money!

So how did we do it?

Well, I was warned by a fellow blogger not to become a crazy coupon lady, so I have so far avoided all use of coupons. I also received many comments and emails from people advising me of some of the super scrimping ideas they had tried in the past. (I guarantee they will all feature in a future post, as some were just too ingenious to not share.) But for now it has all boiled down to the following:

I still have enough 'ingredients' to add taste and variety to even the most boring of food stuffs; potatoes, rice, bread etc.

I have surprised myself with the amount of freebies available to you if you are happy to blog/tweet/speak about your experiences after using said freebies.

On Saturday Hubby and I drove in to town to attend a new art installation preview; details of which I found out about because I actually read the emails from groups/organisations/places that I subscribe to.

I have to say it always feels like a privilege to be one of the first to experience new art works and this particular installation was no different - absolutely stunning in fact. Hubby is not a lover of 'modern' art, but what can I say? Even he was won over by the free coffee and cake on offer.

About twice a year I have a clear-out and post some bits and pieces on EBay. I was a little bit earlier in the year than normal in doing this, but figured #frugalfeb was the ideal time, so why wait? Sunday evening rolled around and 7 items sold for a grand total of £173.25. Now, for all you cynics out there, I know I have to deduct my Paypal and final EBay fees from that amount, but I will not let you rain on my parade. I have final a 3 items still listed, so will let you know a grand (net) revenue once everything is sold, posted, deducted and banked.

Finally, a special mention must go to the weather, for on Sunday our village was carpetted so tremendously well that there was no need to pay for any other entertainment. The day was spent running about in the snow with the dog, snuggled up watching the neighbours children making snow men and having snow ball fights and then drinking hot chocolates as the sun went down and the winter wonderland re-gained it's icy chill.

One day remains of this week and we still have £3.44 remaining so surely we're through this initial phase home and dry? Mind you...I'm not looking forward to week 2 as store cupboard essentials start to run so low. Maybe the real challenge is only just about to start...

mwah x

Man + Shopping. Will that end well?

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 19:30:00 +0000

For all of you following our frugal February austerity challenge, you'll be pleased to know that yesterday went well, with us managing to spend absolutely nothing...zip...nada...nil.

Today however, was a different thing. You see, Friday is normally 'big shop' day, which, with me being unable to resist a bargain, or shiny packaging, or a cute advert - I am a marketer's dream I tell you! - is usually inevitably expensive.

So, in order to combat my magpie like love for all things shiny and bargain-ous I sent Hubby off to work this morning with a list of items to be purchased on his way home. To add to the trauma I also gave him strict instructions to head to Aldi, not Tescos and to Farmfoods, not Morrisons, with a 'via' added in to the local farm for a sack of his finest potatoes.

What harm could it do anyway? After all I think the Aldi marketing campaign is fantastic and if changing the shops we use allows us to buy cheaper food stuffs without compromising on quality, then I'm all for it. So off he went to work; note in hand, jar of coffee under arm (Because this challenge means he is no longer allowed to purchase coffee at work. He has to take his own, make use of the dreaded canteen boiler and drink it black...oh I am such a hard task master!)

Problem is, it seems Hubby is also a marketer's dream, but in a slightly different way. He loves a bargain whether it's on his list or not and he can't resist the alcohol aisle!

So this week our 'big shop' went something like this:

4 x bottles of sparkling water £1 (I have swapped my regular diet coke for clear bubbles. I am yet to be convinced on this one, but we'll see.
2 x Packet of tortillas£1.38
2 x 2l cartons of milk £1.80
6 pears 99p (These are the dogs favourite treat, so not to be scimped on.)
Large bag of dog biscuits £4.45
7.5kg sack of potatoes £2
4 x 550ml bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale £5.56

Budget available: £25
Budget spent today: £18.56 on the above items.
Budget spent so far: £21.56
Budget remaining: £3.44

So there we have it: Man + Shopping never ends well. I can see I am going to have to step up my Yoda style training or fail this task before the start of the second week. Thank goodness that at this stage I still have a fairly healthy stock of store cupboard essentials and frozen veg!

And so to the weekend merriment with only £3.44 to spend...wish me luck!

mwah x

Maybe I've bitten off more than I can chew?

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 20:00:00 +0000

Well, I woke up to a cold and crisp morning, but at least there was no covering of snow as had been forecast. My mood was pretty good at that point, so I drank my morning coffee, walked the dog (For walked, read; shouted and screamed at him to come back after he decided a frozen pond was the best place to try to dig through the ice.) and then sat down to read my morning e-mails.

It was at that point that my mood changed, as there in my inbox sat the beautiful sequin pocket jumper I had been lusting after for weeks...at HALF PRICE! Just as I was about to click 'buy', it dawned on me...day 1 of the austerity challenge was upon me and no matter how good I may be at balancing budgets, there was no way even I could make this week's £25 budget stretch to include purchase of said pretty (oh so pretty) jumper; half price or not. So I did what every self respecting super savvy scrimper would do...I deleted the e-mail and said a prayer to the fashion Gods that it would still be on sale and available in my size after the challenge ends.

Anyway, I digress; back to day 1 of the challenge:

Budget available: £25
Budget spent today: £3 on a tray of 30 eggs from the local farm.
Budget spent so far: £3
Budget remaining: £22

So now off I go to figure out some recipes to make with eggs...scrambled, boiled, coddled...

mwah x

AUSTERITY CHALLENGE

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 09:15:00 +0000

So how many of you out there are currently struggling with the 'January Blues'?

Long, dark, dreary days.
Diets.
Budgets.
Christmas 2011 sent you along the road to hell and you're still on the track to recovery.
(Only 330 days until the next one - Sorry, couldn't resist!)

Well, the details aren't important, but Hubby and I have decided that some obligatory belt tightening is required over the coming months. Now, whilst I am talking theoretical belt tightening in the financial sense, a little bit of actual belt tightening in the diet sense would also not go amiss, so here's hoping one leads to another. Don't you just love 'happy coincidences'?!

Obviously I'm a bit late for a new year start, but then where's the fun in starting something like this when you still have a cupboard full of foodie goodies to get through; bought in the usual overindulgent - and let's face it, pleasantly obnoxious - way that seems so necessary at Christmas?

So a February start it is.

And so to the budget...

I won't be including mortgage payments or household utility bills, though I have just switched utility supplier and saved a small fortune, so that doesn't mean I have my head in the sand. Also, we have 2 cars to run and the price of diesel is extortionate at the moment, so I'm afraid I have to discount that expense as the cars are necessities of getting to work from a rural location such as ours. However, it does mean that the budget allocated sounds ridiculously small and therefore like more of a challenge.

So get to the important bit I hear you cry! Tell us the actual weekly amount you shout! (Patience is a virtue you know guys...)

How does £25 per week for the entire month of February sound to you? We're talking food, drink, leisure activities etc. For info, now that I've typed it I am thinking it sounds ridiculous and I am way out of my depth here, but hey ho, a challenge wouldn't be a challenge if it was easy now would it?!

Added to that challenge, will be an additional target to see if there are ways to actually make money, rather than to just not spend it. I'm not talking another full time paid job, just a little bit of pocket money to supplement the meagre £25.

If only this was 'Mission Impossible' then the above mission would self destruct in 30 seconds and I could forget all about it...but it isn't, so as of Wednesday 1st February, the austerity begins. Though please be aware that austerity does not have to mean a lack of fun!

Bring it on!

mwah x

RE-VAMP!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 13:18:00 +0000

In order to try and move closer to a 'lifestyle' blog, I've had a bit of a re-vamp and included a few new pages.

We're not talking lifestyles of the rich and the famous, just ickle old (but not that old!) me. My likes, dislikes, loves, irks and quirks.

I'd love to know your thoughts and hear about the pages you think worthy of 'Blog Roll' (Yes, I said B.L.O.G!) inclusion, the things you're 'Currently Coveting' and the people / places / items you think have 'Style & Substance'.

I hope you enjoy what's to come.

mwah x

Suffolk Days and Sleepless Nights

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 12:38:00 +0000

Well, we've done it! After what seems like 10 hideous long months of hassle and annoyance from the Landlord of what will from this point on be referred to as our 'transit house'; the house we had to endure until we found somewhere to put down lasting roots in Suffolk; we are finally (almost) settled in our new home....and we love it!

The move seemed almost too easy, though there are a few teething problems due to the house being a new build:

According to the energy company call handler we are currently 'de-energised'. "I know," I responded to her when I rang them to arrange our account "I'm de-energised aswell, it's hard work moving house, without you adding to the problem."

According to the majority of call centre databases we don't exist. There is no such address. In other words the general response to "Can I please update my address with your company?" is that the computer says no. (And believe me when I tell you that if Tesco can't/won't deliver to you because their computer also says no, you know you are going to have an on-going battle on your hands!)

But the gripes are minimal (A first for me, right?!) and life suddenly seems so much more relaxed. Toby is loving the fact that the village has a mass of fields and thicket set aside for the sole purpose of exercising your dog. I am loving bimbling about in my new kitchen and pottering about deciding the final resting places for our furniture and art work. Nev is loving coming home to a soak in a hot bubbly bath after a hard day at work, (Just don't tell him I told you about the bubbles!) followed by a healthy home cooked meal now that I have started to enjoy cooking again.

I am pretty certain that once the environment you live in improves, your mental health acknowledges those improvements and your general well-being and perspective on life improves. I certainly feel more energised, which in turn sees my more positive outlook benefitting my life in general.

Aside from business going well (Jigsaw Care have been included in Mumpreneur UK's Top 100 Business' List) I am now taking some time to do the things I enjoy doing, but have strayed from over the past few months and I am already reaping the rewards. As you know, I am cooking once more, but I have also started crafting again and... drum roll please...I have had my first ever article published in Suffolk Days Magazine and will be doing a follow up for their April edition.

Now if only I could get that old clock tower across the way to stop chiming every hour on the hour, maybe I could get some sleep!

mwah x

Throwing in the towel!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 08:30:00 +0000

I've never been one to quit:

Finishing a book that isn't quite the page-turner promised. Finished it!
Learning to play poker just to compete in an other wise all male tournament. Royal Flush - won it!

Not necessarily the biggest of achievements, but you get my gist...why wear the t-shirt when you can actually visit the place?

But then we come to diets and I am exactly the opposite. I just don't seem to have the capacity to commit. Or maybe it's just that I get bored too easily? Or maybe it's because as soon as someone tells me I can't have something, I want that something more than ever? Or maybe it's just because I like my food?

Which is why when it comes to diets I find myself wearing the (plus sized) t-shirt in stead of actually visiting Slimville!

Did you know that from the end of November to 5th January, the average - whatever average may be - person puts on 11lb in weight simply due to too much Christmas cheer? Isn't that an interesting yet useless factoid for you guys - not!

Well, that factoid is where my current dilemma stems from.

For about a month now I have been following the low GI diet. I've felt more full of beans than ever before and I haven't particularly struggled with the usual related hunger pangs. Problem is I don't appear to have lost much weight - though much to his delight, Hubby has and he was only on the diet because he didn't want to cook his own dinners, so it was eat what I eat or starve!

This leads me to ponder whether or not I should quit for the Festive season. After all, if that 11lb increase is inevitable then surely I might aswell enjoy myself, right?

mwah x

I'm walking on (a) sunshine (award)

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 10:59:00 +0000

Imagine my surprise when one of my fellow PBAU buddies, Barbara of the truly scrumptious Late Bloomers blog, bestowed the 'Sunshine Award' upon me last week. My surprise was of course overshadowed by the surprise of Hubby - who claimed I had been anything but a ray of sunshine that week! Anyway, back to the point in hand, someone thinks my blogs is full of sunshine and that is all that matters! Thank you wholeheartedly Barbara and to any of you out there who haven't yet visited Barbara's blog, then what are you waiting for. Pop over now and find out more about the handmade products she sells at markets in Switzerland; delicious fudges and florentines, scented candles and soaps. Her online shop will be open soon, so it's no excuse if you currently don't live close enough!

As ever with awards (So I'm told!) there are rules...

1. Thank the person who gave this award and write a post about it.
2. Answer 10 questions.
3. Pass the award on to 10 – 12 deserved bloggers, link their blogs and let them know you awarded them.

And so to the questions...

Favorite Colour: I struggle to decide between bright blue and bright green. Think of a bright day and that point where the sky meets the fields on the horizon - those are the colours I'm talking about.
Favorite Animal: Any regular readers will know that Toby, my mischevious springer spaniel, is my baby.
Favorite Number: 3, 5, 19, 23, 31, 40 - The numbers that will one of these days win me the lotto!
Favorite Drink: Do I sound totally pretentious if I say Veuve Cliquet?! I do?! Ok, decaf skinny sugar free vanilla latte then.
Facebook or Twitter: Definitely Twitter. Facebook seems to cause too many problems amongst people.
Your Passion: My boys and my business. Travelling, blogging and taking the occasional snapshot.
Giving or Receiving Gifts: Everybody loves to receive, but you can't beat the look on someones face when you give them something that you have handmade or picked to suit their personality.
Favourite Day: Any that includes my boys, or family and friends that I love.
Favorite Flowers: Gerberas becasue they have such open smiling faces.

Well that wasn't too onerous now was it...oh, the hard part starts now...picking bloggers deserving of the award without offending those that don't get a mention. There are so many fabulous blogs out there so let's try this another way round...

It's over to you guys to link share in the comments section and help me to spread the sunshine. Don't link to your own website, that's hardly showing humility is it?!

Link to 1 or 2 blogs that you visit regulary and think worthy of sharing with others. I look forward to reading your recomendations.

mwah x

The Village Mentality

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Sat, 26 Nov 2011 11:31:00 +0000

I walk the dog through the fields surrounding the village and people pass by without even acknowledging my presence. Odd.
I visit the local village hall for the once a week Post Office and it's accompanying 'coffee, cake and company'. No one speaks to me, but they all speak about me. Odd. And somewhat rude.
I pay my paper bill and buy my Sunday joint in the village shop and the assistant carries on a conversation with 'Old Mrs Brown' who has lived in the village all her life. All she says to me is "Ten pounds, thirty two pence." No please, no thank you, no eye contact. Odd. And more than a little bit rude.
I visit the local pubs and am looked at with suspicious eyes, yet no one speaks to me. Odd. And down right rude.

But I am learning that all of the above and more are simply part of the 'village mentality'.
I am learning to be much more forceful than was ever neccesary when I lived 'Up North'; where people were welcoming and would happilly pass the time of day with a stranger. I am learning that I am not the issue. They are. For in a village that has more folk in it that were born here, worked here and will probably die here, than new inhabitants, I am the odd one out, not them.

From my initial discontent with village life and wonderment at the rudeness of village dwellers, I now have my own set of rules.

I shout a loud and vehement 'Hello!' to everyone who passes me by, whether they respond or not is irrelevant. After the third or fourth time of doing this to the same person, they will respond out of shame if nothing else.
I drink my coffee, eat my cake and suffer the company with a smile pursed sweetly upon my lips. They still ignore me, but they no longer berate me.
I pay my paper bill, buy my Sunday roast and engage emphatically in conversation about 'Old Mrs Brown'. "Send her my best!" I proclaim as I leave the shop. They all now think I know 'Old Mrs Brown' so greet me whenever I enter the shop for fear of upsetting 'Old Mrs Brown' if they don't.

But as for the local pub and their evil eyes of suspicion; that was not for me to resolve. That was down to my next door neighbour - a regular in one of the pubs - to explain:

"In this here village we only frequent one of the pubs, never both. We don't do pub crawls like you may be used to. Pick a pub and stick with it. That's the done thing."

And that about sums up the village mentality, though it leaves me with a major dilemma...do I pick the pub that does food or the one with the better wine menu?!

I wonder which one 'Old Mrs Brown' is a regular at?!

mwah x

Superfluous to requirements

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 15:35:00 +0000

Don't you just hate when you support someone, encourage them, assist them and in some cases actually 'do' things for them...just to get them to where it is they claim they want to be...only to find you are dropped like a hot potato once they get there?

I do.

Maybe it is my helpful nature, or maybe it is because I like to think that a friend would return the favour when I need support and encouragement, or maybe (This is Hubby's preferred response.) it is because I remain a 'little too green around the gills' and want to see the best in everyone, therefore exposing my gullible-ness (Is that even a word?!) and making myself an easy target for friends to tread upon as they clammer for success.

Now don't get me wrong, you won't get round me easily when it comes to business, for when it comes to business, I'm a tough cookie. But when it comes to friendship, I think maybe I need to toughen up a bit. And so as this 'new me' continues to emerge from it's cocoon; a caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly if you will, (Well ok...maybe just a moth, but you get my point!) some of you need to watch out, because from now on it's no more 'Miss Nice Guy'. It's time for you to treat me with the respect I deserve. As my Grandad used to say; "Shape up or ship out!"

You know who you are.

mwah x

Weebles wobble but they don't fall down!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 16:35:00 +0000

Oh my days!

Halloween was mine and Hubby's 7th anniversary. However, being the responsible dog owners that we are, we never go out due to the amount of fireworks and 'trick or treaters' the night inevitably invites. So, true to tradition, Hubby cooked me a lush (and diet friendly) meal and we shared a (not so diet friendly!) bottle of champagne.

Imagine my horror when in the early hours of the following morning I rolled over in bed...and the room rolled with me! Imagine my enhanced horror when I then 'went projectile' as vomit escaped from every facial orifice. (Perhaps a slight over exaggeration, but you understand the severity of the vomiting situation now though, right?!)

OMG! I am never drinking again! I've become a lightweight! My Grandad will disown me!

With the spinning and vomiting progressively worsening throughout the day, Hubby decided that it couldn't possibly be the drink, as two glasses of the fizzy stuff wouldn't cause this amount of destruction in anyone. And so the guilt crept in. Had he given me food poisoning? No, or else he would be the same. So what was it???

Three hideous hours later he decided enough was enough and called for an emergency Doctor who said they would be here within 2 hours. 4 hours later, he rang again! 6 and a half hours later they finally arrived!

By this time I was grey, damp with sweat and let me kid you not; not my usual attractive self (lol).

With no apology she began to take vitals, whilst simultaneously trying to hold her handbag over her shoulder. She hit me with said bag at least twice - which only made me feel worse than I already did - before coming to the conclusion that I had either Labrythitis or Meniers Disease. She wrote a prescription, which due to her tardy arrival it was now too late to collect, as even the emercency pharmacist was now closed, and off she went. I was left to my own devices to continue spinning and vomiting through the night once more until Hubby (My Hero!) set out at first light to collect my drugs.

Obviously, I am now on the mend or I wouldn't even be able to contemplate blogging, let alone type - albeit two fingered and slowly...oh no wait, that's my usual typing style and speed - but I await the outcome of my own GPs thoughts as to my diagnosis and prognosis. I am no longer a vomiting mess of mass, though I am still decidedly wobbly and a bit dizzy. (No change there then!) I remind myself of a supermarket trolley with a defective wheel; I just want to go left.

Do you remember 'The Weebles' toys from your childhood? Well, I am a Weeble because 'weebles wobble but they don't fall down'!

mwah x

Why do men...?

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 11:06:00 +0000

It must be a question that has been asked by women the world over for time immemorial "Why do men...(insert your question or query of choice here)?

For any of you who got excited then in anticipation of the question finally being answered within this blog post, I hate to burst your bubble as I still don't have the answers. I do however have some questions I would like to add to the repertoir...sorry ladies!

Why do men...

....seem unable to notice that it has gotten dark outside and so therefore the curtains need closing?
It seems they would rather sit like goldfish in a bowl as the world outside watches their every move.

Why do men...

....seem unable to understand the difference between the 'lights' and 'darks' compartments of the laundry bin?
It seems they would rather put everything they have just taken off into the nearest compartment, regardless of the bright red sock looming menacingly amidst the white shirts.

Why do men...

....think they can outsmart the SatNav?
It states "Turn right here." yet it seems they hear "Turn right, or left, or carry on in whichever direction you think is the best short cut available."

Oh ladies I could go on, but for fear of alienating my male readers and Hubby - on whom these few gems are quite obviously NOT based! - I will stop there.

Now over to you. What questions about the male psychy have always had you wondering 'Why do men...?'

And men, don't be outdone. Any questions you have always wondered about the female psychy, ask and ye shall gain a response. Why do women...?'

Let the battle of the sexes commence!

mwah x

Writer's Block?

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 11:14:00 +0000

According to the font of all knowledge that is Wikipedia, writer's block is a condition that is primarily associated with writing as a profession. It relates to a time period whereby an author loses the ability to produce new work. Now I have no delusions of grandeur and would never describe myself as a writer, but I appear to have developed a writer's block of sorts; blogger's block if you will.

My understanding is that this condition can vary greatly in it's intensity and in my particular case is probably trivial and simply related to a temporary aversion to dealing with the task at hand. You see, I still have those daily 'light bulb' moments when a topic to blog about pops into my head. Indeed, I also still have those moments of outrage when it is clear to me that I need to off load my opinion about a particular service or subject via my blog in order to protect my readers from the same disappointment as I have just experienced. (See how much I care about you all? I really do!)

But nothing, no matter how huge my outrage, is translating from brain to blog. Why is this? Usually I find blogging somewhat cathartic (And of course it is much cheaper than therapy.) but these last few weeks have seen me void of a voice, defunct of a font.

Now as you will have noticed, I have not been left bereft of my ability to ramble. I mean, 3 paragraphs simply to let you know I have suspected blogger's block is no mean feat; but a subject, a context and a flow of legible words?

I concede, for this week at least, that for once in my life I have nothing to say. Nada.

So enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts!

mwah x

Where Is Your Dream Destination?

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 07:00:00 +0000

Ths post sees me take part in one of my favourite blogging pursuits; Pandora Poikilos' Blogalicious Blog Tour. Each week bloggers are given a theme and we all link our posts one to the next...like a giant caterpillar if you will, but much better at writing and wordsmanship than a caterpillar...obviously!

If you have arrived here as part of the tour, you will have already visited Melissa as she 'searches for purpose and meaning through writing and visual art.' and your next stop will be Shelley who can usually be found discussing the eating habits of fictional characters. Yes you did read that last sentence correctly!

If you have happened upon this blog by accident, then welcome, pull up a chair and let's talk, but please be sure to check out the other blogs in the tour as well.

Upon being asked to respond to the question 'Where is your dream destination?' my mind wandered to memories of holidays past...

To Thailand, with it's array of colours and smiling faces and spa treatments...ooo those espa treatments.

To Canada, with it's massive expanse of wilderness and wild open spaces. It always seems so clean and fresh and untamed to me.

To Indonesia, with it's extremities of rich vulgarity and empoverished slums, all mingling with the hustle and bustle of traffic and the occasional threat of volcanic eruption.

To America, or New York City; my second home and one of my favourite places on earth, yet as I type this I realise it is not my dream destination.

Neither is Mauritius, or any of the Caribbean Islands, or Hawaii. Becasue as I type I realise that none of these destinations would be a dream without the company of 'my boys'. So I guess you could say that my dream destination is 'home' and wherever I lay my hat, that's my home.

Me and 'my boys'.

The Joys of Working From Home

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 14:30:00 +0000

Not a post as such today, but for all those of you who work from home, I felt the need to share this with you.

And no it's not autobiographical...my hair isn't curly!

Have a great day guys!

mwah x

FAT GIRL SLIM

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 15:21:00 +0000

I guess you could say it was a chain of events that lead me here. Some of those events have been way out of my control and others, in retrospect, I suppose I could have taken more control over. But either way, I've ended up in this situation, so now I have to pro-actively do something about it. For you see I AM FAT!

Now, many females out there - and no doubt some males too - will tell you that they are happy with their size, that they like their curves, that they refuse to conform to the current societal view that slim is good and fat is bad. Good for them I say...embrace your self confidence and live your life the way you want to. But me? I'm not happy being my 'winter weight' all year round. I am no longer besieged by an few extra pounds that refuse to shift, I am being assaulted by a full on fat attack!

I've never been what people would refer to as slim. At Uni I was the 'big girl' amongst my group of friends, although looking back, at a healthy UK size 12, I was hardly fat! After graduating from Uni I travelled for a year; USA, Canada, Thailand, Malaysia and then lived and worked in NYC for a while. Inevitably, money was tight and as a result my weight dropped to a level I was both comfortable and confident with. (Ironically, although I could now fit into the type of clothes I liked, the tightness of money did not prove conducive with my love of fashion!)

It was when I returned to the UK that what I now refer to as my 'weight issues' really began. I settled in to a new job. I settled into a routine. I settled into a new relationship. Is anyone noticing the common denominator here? I settled. Plain and simple. Settled. Now, I can understand that many of you reading this may not understand what is wrong with settling; indeed I am settled again today. However, there is a difference between 'being settled' and settling. Like there is a difference between loving someone and being 'in love'.

Anyway, I digress. I settled down and my routine settled down, but my body began to react quite bizarrely. Convinced it was simpy a bit 'out of kilter' from all the travel I had done - jet lagged if you will - I carried on as best I could. At this point my weight started to creep up and people I met joked that I was obviously so happy in my new job (Certainly not my dream role!) and so in love with my new man (Not at all!) that I was 'letting myself go' and getting ready for marriage and a family. You all know the stereotype; girl studies hard at Uni, girl goes travelling to 'find herself' and see some of the world, then girl returns home to a menial job until she finds a boy to marry and start a family with. (Apologies to anyone who has chosen/taken this route. I am not in any way saying it is an invalid life choice. It simply wasn't the one for me.)

However, those who knew me well knew that I was having to alter my daily routines and was struggling to attend work regularly as I began to be plagued by long, heavy, uncomfortable and often excruciating monthly cycles. Following numerous appointments my GP suggested that maybe it was IBS...or maybe it was 'just one of those things'...but the only thing he seemed certain of was that my hypochondria was hindering other 'really poorly' (His words, not mine.) people's ability to gain appointments with him. I was eventually forced to accept that maybe he was right; maybe this pain and weight gain was 'the norm' and so I resumed normal service as best I could.

By the following year I had expanded from a size 12 to a size 18. My stomach was the size, shape and feel of a football and my health was deteriorating rapidly. I regularly passed out with the pain caused by my now haphazard but still horrifically painful cycles and I was taking more and more time off work. And so under duress I was forced to return to my GP.

At this point I was scared of attending the appointment, worried about how scathing he would be towards me and honestly dreading seeing him again. On this occasion he called me 'fatty', recorded my height and weight, offered me advice regarding food and exercise and sent me away. I left the consulting room hardly able to contain my disappointment and as soon as I closed the door behind me I collapsed into floods of tears. A nurse ushered me into a room opposite and brought me a glass of water and simpy sat with me until my sobs subsided. (It occurs to me now that I may actually owe this woman my life.)

I talked and the nurse listened. She asked me questions that my GP had never asked and I answered her. She left the room for a short while and came back with my GP. He agreed to her taking some blood samples and to arranging an appointment for me to have an ultrasound scan. By this point he seemed to think that I was pregnant, though after he left the room the nurse informed me that in her opinion I was displaying classic symptoms of either Endometriosis or Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome and that the ultrasound would also help to confirm if this was the case.

A month later I lay on a hospital bed, gel lathered on my stomach, as another nurse completed an ultrasound scan. I remember it as if it was yesterday as she muttered the words "...pregnant...large visible mass...no heart beat..make a phone call..." and then she left me in the room telling me she would be "just a moment". I lay on that bed for what seemed like forever, hardly daring to breathe. I knew it was not possible that I was pregnant, but this whole experience had me doubting my own body.

The nurse returned with a Consultant, who said nothing to me as he applied more gel to my stomach and stared at the monitor screen. He turned the monitor off, muttered something to the nurse and proceeded to use the telephone on the desk in the corner. The nurse informed me that I had an unidentifiable mass within my womb and that it would be necessary to "carry out some checks" to identify what it was. Before I was able to re-dress I was admitted and scheduled for an operation the following day.

The next 48 hours passed in a blur. It seemed as though hospital policy was to only answer questions with either an apologetic half smile or a squeeze of my hand and a coursery "You'll be ok."

I awoke from the operation to a man in a mask asking me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10. Apparently, I told him 11, screamed that it "f*cking hurts like hell" and so he increased my morphine dose accordingly! Those who know me will know that that kind of language is not beyond me, but is very seldom used, so will appreciate the pain I was in.

Three days later I was still unable to walk, but was at least compus mentus again and able to understand the enormity of what had happened to me. During the operation, they removed a mass the size of a rugby ball from my womb - we later nicknamed him 'Colin' as a way of normalising the situation - along with several other smaller masses from my ovaries. Then they removed half of my womb and my left ovary, along with endometrial tissue from my bowel, lower intestine and the remaining half of my womb.

The blur returned when the 'C' word was discussed as the Consultant informed me that the removed tissue had been sent for testing. Following the tests and swabs of the remaining areas, it appeared that I was one of the lucky ones and that all of the abnormal cells had been removed with the growths. I was reliably informed that all I needed to concentrate on now was recuperating and getting my life back to normal. (To this day I'm still not sure I know what a 'normal' life is...or that I want one!)

Several other operations have followed over the years as they try to control my PCOS and endometriosis, but I am now a few years 'in the clear' and ready to take back control over ALL aspects of my life, including my weight. So you see - maybe I am succumbing to a normal life? Maybe I am almost relieved to have 'normal' weight anxieties rather than bigger health concerns. But either way, my weight has taken a back seat over the last few years and now I feel strong enough to address it head on...after all I intend to stay healthy for years to come, so there's no better place to start!

Maybe you would like to follow and support me on my journey as this fat girl gets slim?

A Fond and Fitting Farewell to Choose Day Choon For This Year...

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 07:09:00 +0000

This week is the last ChooseDay Choon of the summer. I hope you've all enjoyed the sing-alongs and been tempted to visit the blogs of the amazing guest bloggers who have taken part.

You could say I've saved the best till last as I introduce you to, or for some of you remind you of Mary from The Adventures of Cilgin Kiz. Part travel, part photography and part opinions, but always personal; thi is one blog I never miss a post from.

I was surprised and chuffed when Lucy asked me to take part in Chooseday Choons. I love to listen to music. I’m a child of the seventies, though my daughters often seek to update me. We fall out when someone re-releases one of my favourites and I refuse to agree that the new version is better. Example the Fugees version of “Killing me softly” - need I say more? Adding an R&B beat to this classic is tantamount to sacrilege in my book!

I started blogging to record my adventures in Turkey. We have a summer house on the Bodrum peninsula, and unlike many foreigners who have bought we located in a very “Turkish” area. I am a novelty to the locals. I look like one of the typical overweight, middle aged, blonde, tourists that besiege the area in summertime but there the similarity ends.

I open my mouth, actually I can’t keep it closed, and I’m met with looks of pleased surprise. I speak Turkish, not brilliantly, but enough to hold a conversation or to make myself understood. I often travel on my own because Hubbie isn’t lucky enough to have teachers’ holidays and he doesn’t speak Turkish. They think I’m a creature from a different planet. They all want to talk to me. I’m like a new rather voluptuous Barbie, one that Reubens might have designed.

The upshot of it is I always come home from holidays with enough stories to keep a congregation rolling in the pews for a month of Sundays. And so my blog was born.

When asked to choose a “choon” I had to sit down and think. As I said I love to listen to music, in the car, out walking or background music while I’m reading. But I wanted to choose something that has meaning for me. Immediately, one song sprang to mind.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQnhDBiTjvg

This song takes me back almost twenty years. People enjoy my sense of humour and fun. It comes from my Dad. I physically resemble my Mum but my character is all my Dads. He always wanted a girl and had great fun trying. I have four older brothers and one younger!

At the age of 67 he wasn’t feeling well. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer mid-January 1992 and he died a fortnight later.

Dad had taken early retirement and passed the business on to a young associate. The previous November we became aware that there were problems in the business. His associate was not paying him rent for the premises. Dad had begun to question this. We had put the Dad’s bad form down to stress instead of his illness.

After his death, we discovered that the agreement he had for passing on his business had not been honoured. Rent was not being paid. His taxes had not been paid. Worst of all, his associate was being investigated by their governing body for fraud. He had used ¾ million euro of clients money for his own personal gain.

It went from bad to worse. It should have gotten better. His associate was suspended and a new person came to run the business. Unfortunately, this person, a friend of my oldest brother, had worked for Dad in the past. The relationship had not been a happy one so Dad let him go. There was no love lost between them. He now became difficult to deal with. As all Dad’s papers had disappeared from the office Mum had no deeds, no rental agreements or contracts to prove ownership of the building. The new man ended up refusing to pay rent.

This story is long and complicated. Suffice to say, Mum had to sell her house to pay back taxes, she had no income and nothing to prove what she owned. I had to listen to Dad’s partner telling me the mess was Dad’s fault, he had been trying to sort it out. Dad’s solicitor wouldn’t follow through on document searches because he assumed he was careless about everything. In addition I had to try to get the new man to pay rent. It took me over a year to get it all sorted for my Mum.

It was only then I had time to think. Some days I didn’t know what to think. Was my Dad the person I thought he was? Was he someone I didn’t know? The huge mess spoiled my memories. I hadn’t grieved for him. I hadn’t had time.

Hubbie decided I needed a “lift.” He bought tickets for a Phil Coulter concert. In the middle of the concert Phil sang the song “The Old Man”. The words went straight to my heart, especially the chorus.

“I never will forget him

For he made me what I am

Though he may be gone

Memories linger on

And I miss him, the old man”

It was like a light bulb lit up in my head and a dam opened. He had made me what I am, he had given me my morals and standards, I knew who he was. What others said was irrelevant. He was my Dad and I missed him. The tears started to flow. A weight lifted from my shoulders. I was free to grieve for the person I loved. The song gave my Dad back to me.

The end of the story? Both Dad’s associates were struck off by their governing body. Young and greedy.

Dad? Careless? In his desire to retire early he trusted the wrong person and didn’t keep close enough an eye on his business affairs. My knight in shining armour? No. Decent human being? Most definitely!

It's All About ME! ME! ME!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Oh it has been a weeks of highs and lows, peaks and troughs, ups and downs...you get my point without the need for any further bi-polar extremity type explanations surely?!

I started the week in a some what fragile state; embracing the toilet bowel with a grim certainty that I would be 'friends' with it for several hours to come...I was, but it passed (Pardon the pun!) and by Tuesday I felt able to cope with the outside world again.

I then spent much of Tuesday coping with that outside world...being what I can only refer to as 'abused' by a not so gentlemanly Hindu gentleman who seemed to object to my being a successful (Fingers crossed on the success bit at this point!) white Western female who chose to go into business. This he did not agree with and promptly branded me a 'cheap white slut'. (No need for paraphrasing here as those were his actual words.) I was of course appauled by this because, as Hubby will tell you, I am certainly not cheap! I'm sorry. I realise there are bigger issues at play here, but making light of the situation helps me with the notion that these types of narrow minded culturally stereotypical beliefs are actually still apparent...and apparently very vocal...in the world today.

Wednesday improved. Blogger actually allowed me access to my own blog again (For which I am sure you are all eternally grateful!) and my Mum was deposited safely onto a train by my brother to start her birthday pilgrimage to see ickle old (Less of the old if you please...birthdays make me a tad grumpy.) me.

Ta-Dah!

Wednesday improved even more when I received my Chartered Management Institute Level 7 Certificate in Strategic Management and Leadership. (And there you all where thinking I couldn't even manage to organise a p*ss up in a brewery - Shame on you!) I'm a little bit proud of myself, but it was also very timely being as my Mum was ah-maz-ing-ly supportive of myself and Hubby whilst I was studying. Never has she cooked so many hot dinners and walked the doggle as often in order to allow me to attend Uni and frantically (Though of course never at last minute!) type up assignments and pull together presentations. Her being here gave me a chance to thank her for her support and show her it was not all in vain.

Thursday bombed. Thursday blew monkies. (I never did fully understand what that meant, but hey ho it seems to work in this context.) For Thursday was my birthday. And apparently it is no longer acceptable to lie in bed all day, wearing black, drinking vodka and being a general kill joy. (I must have missed that memo.) So instead I was forced to get out of bed and celebrate. The compromise was that I was still allowed to wear black and drink vodka in cocktail form. I believe they call that a silver lining.

Silver lining

Friday is seemingy good so far. Perhaps I have a teeny tiny bad head as a result of a bit much silver lining, but my Mum is still here, I have a Hubby who adore the very bones of me and I realise that I am a very lucky girl...regardless of being another year closer to middle-aged-dom!

mwah x

Eat your heart out Nigella!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 07:00:00 +0000

Ooooo...get me! Not happy with my transition from girl about town to country bumpkin so far, I decided to go a step further and came over all 'Jam & Jerusalem' last weekend. (For those of you blissfully unaware of what I mean by that phrase, please feel free to rent the film 'Calendar Girls' and all will become clear.)

Maybe it's an age thing as I slowly feel my 'yoof' ebbing from my slightly bewildered body with the onset of another birthday this week?

Or maybe it's a new life in the country thing as I need to find activities that do not include (or at least not all the time!) shopping interspaced with coffee/lunch and a bit more shopping?

Or maybe, after a particularly hard conversation with my 92 year old Gran (She struggles with her speech these days, so phone conversations are often emotional for us both.) I came over all nostalgic for my childhood?

Whatever the reason....this weekend...are you ready for it?...drumroll please....I MADE JAM!!!

Not since I was a young girl still in single figures (In years and probably also in stature if I'm honest!) have I done that. During my childhood I spent many a weekend with my Gran and Grandad. They had a huge garden and were pretty much self sufficient the entire year round. Grandad would grow and harvest the fruit and veg and Gran (with my expert assistance, of course) would come up with new and delicious ways to preserve it, pickle it, bake it and of course make it into jam!

So last weekend the jam making frenzy began as I started making food stuffs for inclusion in the Christmas hampers I am making as gifts for people this year.

Ta-dah!

Bubbling away nicely!

And just to prove to Hubby that the jam making (it has actually set, which I have to be honest is probably a complete fluke!) wasn't a one off and that I have actually been hiding my domestic goddess skills under a bushel all these years...I also whipped up a blackberry pie and some cinnamon raison cookies. I know! Sometimes I amaze myself as well! lol

mwah x

Nom...nom :-)

Yum!

A Transitional Tale: From 'Townie' to 'Country Bumpkin'

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Fri, 09 Sep 2011 00:12:00 +0000

Many of you guys will be familiar with my transitional struggle from 'Townie' to 'Country Bumpkin.'

Now, admittedly I had to be dragged kicking and screaming from my bed at an un-Godly hour last Saturday morning in order to embark upon a voyage of discovery, but as you'll see from my happy snapping below, it's not actually soooo bad living in the coutryside after all.

How bizarre that of all the open fields near us, this family of deer choose to frequent a field behind a sole industrial unit!

Bambino makes an early morning run for it!

Ready for sunrise or a storm brewing?

Rise and shy - een!

Turned out to be a beautiful late Summer's day

For all those of you who are wondering where the real Lucylastica is and what has this early rising, nature loving imposter has done with her; nay worry; have faith; panic over.

I had a lovely lie in on Sunday!

mwah x

And it's 'Hello from Ireland' for this week's ChooseDay Choon!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 08:46:00 +0000

This week I would like to welcome Claire as my guest ChooseDay Choonster. Please get those hairbrush microphones at the ready as she introduces you to her blog by way of a roaring and well loved ballad.

Claire, it's over to you. x

Hello from Ireland. It’s lovely to be able to share one of my all time favourite tunes here on Chooseday Choon and I’ll tell you why.

There was a time that I didn’t believe in love, at least not the real, true unconditional type of love. Though I grew up in a respectable family, they were a family who for the most part were unable to really express their love. I knew at a deep level, that my parents and brothers loved me, but I wished we weren’t so emotionally repressed. There was more criticism than praise in our family because that’s the way my parents had been brought up too. God forbid, that children would be praised too much lest they ‘get to big for their boots’. Nobody worried that their criticism and lack of praise might work quite the opposite way!

As a young woman, I despised everything about myself. I was consumed with criticism and hostility towards myself. I was insecure, had no confidence and ridiculed myself on a daily basis. If anyone criticised me negatively, I agreed with them! When people were nice to me, wanted to be my friend or more, I didn't believe them. I assumed there was an ulterior motive, I was standoffish on occasions. I drank too much, to block out the pain and I even thought of ending it all at times. I spent a large part of my life in tears. Looking back, I wasted so much precious life
I believe that this lack of self esteem, self worth and self love led me to believe that I would be the worst mother in the world. I felt I could never bring a child into the world if I thought he or she would ever have those same kind of feelings about themselves. I wasn't sure I would be able to prevent this as my own parents didn't with me. I know that they did the best they could do but, in those days, many children were treated in a very different way than they are now. My mother is kind but a critical person and my father was genuine, but oversensitive, depressive and an alcoholic. They were good people and parented as best they knew how. They weren't really aware of any damage that was done to their children and I hasten to stress that fact.

Thankfully, I was able to overcome my problems with time, self help and a lot of self love. Something happened to me that jolted me right into the reality that if I continued on the self destructive path, there would be worse to come.

I started to consume self help books, and read about inspirational people who overcame much adversity in their lives. I realised that it is true that everything begins with the thoughts in your mind, every action, every decision you make. I realised that I had to take the responsibility of altering my mind set upon myself. I realised that I couldn't blame anyone else if I couldn't turn things around. I had a mind of my own and it was up to me to use it properly. All my negative thinking had led me to hating myself, to being overweight, to drinking too much, to being in jobs or relationships that were not good for me. It was lovely to find that by changing the thinking, I began to love myself, lose weight, drink much less, find a job and a man I love. I also became much closer and more loving with my parents around this time.

My Chooseday Choon is ‘Love is all around’ by Wet, Wet, Wet because it came out in 1994 when I was going through these changes. It was also a song that my father, who has now passed on, loved and I gave my parents the album for their birthday. I love the song even more these days because now I DO believe in love and that it is all around us if we can only see it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQQ6SfPZggw

And Yes! I also went on to have that baby! I realised I wasn’t such a bad person after all an might actually be a good mother. After trying unsuccessfully for a while, I was almost forty two when I eventually had my son. Thankfully I woke up before it was really too late.

I started my blog about being a forty something first time Mum to connect with other mothers in a similar situation. At mother and toddler groups I was usually the oldest mum by about ten years and once was even asked if I was my son’s grandmother! Through my blog, I have connected with other first time mid life mums and given hope to other women in their forties that they might still go on to have a child..

Of course, there are still challenges in all areas of my life as there are in most peoples. I am still a work in progress but I am loving learning more about myself and life every day. And the best thing is that I DON'T feel selfish doing it because I know, by being a happier person, it will impact on those around me.

I hope that I can help my child to avoid all the mental suffering that I and many friends of my generation went through. I want him to know that Love is all around and will be forever.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQQ6SfPZggw

Am I really that versatile?

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 11:33:00 +0000

It's been a while, but this is my second time (Someone stop my head swelling or I'll not be able to get out of the door!) receiving the Versatile Blogger Award. This time it headed my way from 'Down Under' via the inspirational red-headed Janine. Huge thanks honey!

It's kind of like Fight Club - It comes with rules...except in this case there are actually rules!

Rule 1: Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post - Check!

Rule 2: Share 7 things about yourself - Check! (If you want to read the original 7 you'll find them here.)

Rule 3: Pass the award along to 15 recently discovered blogs and contact them to let them know - Check!

So here goes…(Another!) 7 interesting (?!?) factoids about little old me:

I am now the proud Co-Owner of a new innovative organisation that allows me to link my passion for business with my desire to give something back and leave a (albeit teeny weeny) legacy when I shift from this mortal coil.
Speaking of mortal coils. (If you read 'interesting factoid no.1' you'll know we were - please keep up!) Mortality and more importantly getting old, scares the hell out of me. Not so much the wrinkles and sagging bits, (I have them already and am slowly making peace with them.) but the thought of becoming non compos mentis. The mind can be the most wonderful machine, but can also be very cruel. For my sake and the sake of those around me, I'd rather remain wonderful. (And yes, I am aware that my wonderful-ness is relative, before all you 'haters' speak up!)
I am an avid book worm. Yes, I've read plenty of the classics, but I make no apologies for liking what I like, popular fiction included. So what if Bridget Jone's Diary is still on my favourites list? We all have our guilty pleasures!
I have a few weird celebrity 'crushes' that Hubby thinks are hilarious for two main reasons: Firstly, because I should surely be beyond the age of school girl crushes and secondly because they are not people who would be classed as conventionally good looking. Beauty is only skin deep and all that...though I will keep their names to myself for fear of a torrent of abuse at my lack of taste! lol
Hubby has two children (Though I'm not quite sure that at 16 and almost 19 they qualify as children anymore?) to a previous marriage. Whilst things may still be on shaky ground with his daughter (It's been seven years I want to cry out - deal with it! - though obviously I don't!) I am proud to call his son my friend.
I have a bit of an addiction problem. My name is Lucy and I am a shoe-and-bag-aholic! Right now as I type I can see some 6 pairs of shoes and 3 bags...best get them tidied away before Hubby returns from work tonight, but in my defense "Honestly gov, I really couldn't pick which ones went best with this morning's outfit."
Depending on your age or childhood fiction of choice, I am either a Borrower or a relative of Harry Potter. Confused? Well don't be. It's nothing exciting, just a 'hook' to reel you in on. All I actually mean is that I blog from under the stairs. Not in cupboard or anything like that; but in order to re-claim a second guest room I was demoted from upstairs and now have a lovely little 'office' or 'nook' as I prefer to call it, from which I work and blog my many proclivities.

And so to the 'award ceremony' for the next group of bloggers. Crikey! Fifteen is actually a lot to pick when you consider that it's like an advocacy and many whom I would have chosen are already winners. Hey I know, we're all winners, but you know what I mean....drum roll please....

Recently discovered gems :-)

The beautiful and witty Alexandra Kerr at Life: Past, Present and PR
Another Aussie - I do like my blogs from 'Down Under' - This time the always on trend Caitlin at Chasing Cait
Reveal your inner Goddess (Yes, that means you too men!) with Dangerous Linda as she explores the balance of the status quo...and quite probably tips it just slightly!
This is my most recent discovery, found thanks to a recommendation from a fellow blogger. Grrl Guide started out as a way for one mother to pass on her life experience to her daughter and has grown to be a useful guide for all women, everywhere.
And now to Sue over at New Life in the Country who begs us to ask the question: Do you have what yo need and do you need what you have? I like this blog because it's how Hubby would like us to live now we are living in the middle of nowhere: (I will admit it appeals to me too, but I am yet to find a way to combine it with my aforementioned addiction - see interesting factoid no.6!) Self sufficiency, eco friendly, making full use of the earth etc. But hey, even for those of us who don't manage it quite as expertly as Sue, there are often great recipes and tips to be found.

Yes, I know there are meant to be fifteen and I have only offered you five so far; I can count. Put simply, if I assume you all have the same attention span as I do, you will be nearing your limit now, allowing me to continue on my voyage of blog-scovery in a later post. Method in my madness you see.

So here I will leave you for today, questioning my own versatility and passing the baton to five other great bloggers, whom I just know you will take the time to visit. Be sure to tell them who sent you!

mwah x

Finally getting my shit together.

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 16:59:00 +0000

Have you ever had one of those epiphany-esque moments? You know the type; where suddenly things seem clearer and you realise where you've been going wrong all this time? Hell, you may have had several. Well, welcome to mine!

I'm not sure how it happened; whether it was an overnight thing or a few months in the making, but the need for a total overhaul hit me last week. I felt surrounded by endless hassle, inconvenience and what can only be described as 'brain drain' from an endless array of places; all of which were linked to things either beyond my control or from a past I thought I had moved on from. (At this point I feel it necessary to explain that I don't have a particularly checkered past; but you know how sometimes you make decisions that don't turn out to be the best, so you make another and expect to be able to move on with your life, but instead that bad decision becomes like a leech and continues to suck your very life blood? - No? - Only me then? - I don't believe you!)

So I have decided to move on. (That was the epiphany in case you're struggling to pinpoint it amidst these here ramblings.) Retrospect may be the only exact science, but the future holds the excitement and adventure I am ready for. It's as though the past bad decisions have actually lead me to so many ~~good~~ fabulous ones. So I'm counting my blessings and looking clearly to the future with a few goals being set (by me, for me) along the way.

Blessings: One - lucky seven!

I have the most wonderful Hubby. OK, as many people are often quick to point out, I have no diamond to prove it, but after 7 years without an itch, I know we're as good as it gets and I love him the world. (Mushy stuff over - No need to reach for the sick bag!)
I have the unconditional love of my doggle. Many of you may think I am crazy that a dog features so heavily in my life, but then you've obviously never experienced the love and laughter (and pain!) brought about when a four stone lump sits on your lap for a cuddle.
I have the most amazingly supportive best friend. She's called my Mum. Nuff said.
I have a close network of friends that I know I can rely on. They may not live next door and I may not see them as often as I'd like, but they are there. They know who they are.
After a dicey few years back there, I seem to have my health again.
I am at the start of an exciting and worthy journey with my fabulous new business partner. It is refreshing to find someone in business with whom you bounce off and whose strengths are your weaknesses and vice versa. Fingers crossed.
Oh I could go on! Chin chin *raises glass* to the future!

And so to my goals. For those of you wanting another few bullet points, I apologise. No! I take that back. I don't apologise because my first goal is to stop apologising, especially for being me. Surely I can't be the only one who finds themselves acting slightly differently in the company of certain people, according to what you think they expect/think of you. You know, when you really think someone is talking crap, but you keep quiet because you don't want to be seen to disagree with them? Or when you don't want to walk through a busy bar/restaurant/networking event to find the ladies room (Even though the queue normally gives it away!) for fear of people judging your size/outfit/(insert paranoia of your choice here)/business eptitude.

I am me. Deal with it or trot on!

And now, without apologies, but with honesty, determination, resolution, contentment and integrity I intend to be a success. Not a ruthless bitch. Not a millonaire. Just a success. Just me. Unapologetically me.

Oh...and if I can lose 3 stone along the way, then so be it!

mwah x

Things Can Only Get Better...

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 16:00:00 +0000

No guest Chooseday Choonster this week as I thought we all deserved a 'Summer' break and a moment to take stock of life, love and everything in between.

For that purpose, I dedicate the following song to all my readers and anyone else out there who has found this year just a bit tougher than the previous years...

Keep the faith...things can only get better. x

Seven Deadly Sins and a Moral Dilemma.

noreply@blogger.com (Lucy Patterson) — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 10:18:00 +0000

Okay, so this post isn't exactly about the seven deady sins, but does cover what some readers interpreted as 'greed', specifically as I disclose the outcome to my previous post Moral Dilemma: Can Money Really Buy You Happiness?

First up, thanks go to Mary over at The Adventures of Cilgin Kiz who tagged me for this challenge, for which I have to choose seven of my previous posts picked according to seven specific categories.

Now anyone who regularly stops by my blog regularly; be it for for a giggle, to nit pick the grammatical errors I make or to be a weekly hairbrush diva with the ChooseDay Choon, will know that I am not a writer. I blog for fun and as a way of venting my opinion and releasing my ramblings upon my unsuspecting readers - whether they want to listen or not is up to them - so picking seven posts for the following reasons what flippin' hard work!

And so to my seven choices:

My Most Beautiful post.

It's The Small Things in Life That Matter

Not a long post and certainly not beautifully written, but the sentiment pretty much sums up life for me.

My Most Popular post.

For this I can only go by the number of comments left as a result of the discussion my blog posts generate, which leaves me with two posts to pick from:

The Book That Inspires Me Most

and

Freedom To Me Is...

Incidently both of these posts where written as part of a blog tour...maybe I write best when given a topic, rather than when left to my own devices?

My Most Controversial post!

Without a doubt, this has to be:

Moral Dilemma: Can Money Really Buy You Happiness?

For all of you who have been tweeting, emailing and commenting wanting to know what the coupe did...I can tell you...drumroll please...they moved their wedding date, accepted their mortgage be paid off and donated the 10k to charity. Now I don't want to 'whip up' another moral storm in a tea cup, but that seems like a good cmpromise to me...

My Most Helpful post.

I don't think I've ever written a post that could be deemed as helpful, but if I had to make any kiind of tenuous link, I'd have to pick:

I Love It When a Plan Comes Together

Simply because, whilst my blog posts aren't particularly helpful, I like to think the work of Jigsaw Care Services Plus is.

My Surprising Successful post.

This one is easy, though it is the popularity of the concept that surprises me and not the actual posts, as some of the guest bloggers so far blow my mind with their writing on a regular basis!

ChooseDay Choon!

A Post that Didn't get the Attention it Deserved.

This is a tough one...I don't write my blog to gain attention, though I suppose we all hope someone takes a moment to pause and reflect upon what we have written?

My Life in Smells

Picked simply because I think we all have those memories we need to reminisce about every now and again..it's good for the soul.

The Post I'm Most Proud Of.

Another tough call and a bit of repetition from a few weeks ago when my I explained that I am not proud of this post because I wrote it, but because I have these people in my life as an example to be able to write about.

I Do...67 Years Later.

Phew! Thank goodness that's over...though it has been fun reading through old posts and getting in the nostalgia vibe...especially as I head home this weekend for a good old catch up with family and friends, which invariably leads to further blog post material! Thanks Mary for nominating me..and now to my nominations, should they choose to take up the challenge.

Michael over at Erin is Love shares the most amazing tales about the times he spent with his world travelling springer spaniel. Beautifully written and guaranteed to bring a tear to even the most cynical person's eye.

Sam over at Sconch Textiles is a crazy character who's a bit obsessed with all things crafty...add to the mix her outspoken opinion and family traumas and you have a great read.

Lady Estrogen is always outspoken, sometimes blunt and a bit close to the knuckle; but deep down don't we all wish we had the nerve? Not for the faint hearted!

Even if they choose not to take up the challenge, maybe you'll choose to stop by their blogs anyway. Enjoy!